I am coming at things more as a parent today than as a governor as, it being the holidays, the latter role has gone quiet. I was only thinking this morning (as I was wiping yoghurt out of the inside of my handbag) that it is a good job that one aspect of my life had gone quiet. As it is, just having all three children at home is proving a more than full time job, without having the odd copy writing assignment, a gardening project and a half-decorated children’s bedroom.

During the holidays, Milly has again been asked to complete a scrapbook of memories. Last year, we had such great intentions; we took and printed up photos, bought postcards, cut out pictures from adverts and put aside tickets from our excursions. The plan was that Milly would sit down each evening and jot down a sentence or two then stick in all of her ‘memories’. The reality was that on the evening of the 3rd September, we were frantically emptying the car and various handbags and rucksacks searching for the things we had put aside. My husband was then sent out for some glue and we both hovered over Milly as she reluctantly stuck in the said items completely at random and without any pleasure whatsoever.

So far this year we have done much better. Five days into the holidays and two entries have been written. I can’t say I feel relaxed about the whole thing, but at least there is something there. The writing is neat, the tickets are labeled correctly and, most importantly, Milly has enjoyed doing it. Her brother, who starts school in September, has even requested a scrapbook of his own. I have found that, if I do the writing and allow him to fill in the odd word and to do the gluing, he feels very important because he is doing his ‘work’ too.

My point though is this; despite having been a teacher and having a vague idea of how to motivate children, I find it really hard to make sure that Milly enjoys making her scrapbook whilst making sure that it is of some quality. I want to let her get on with it, but I also want her to learn something from it. I don’t want to nag her to do it, because then it becomes a drag rather than something enjoyable.

I know that the school has deliberately not set firm boundaries for the task, as all year groups participate and, of course, there are a wide range of abilities. However, in the back of my mind, I am aware that there will be some parents who probably sit down and more or less make the scrapbook with their children. There will be some who make it an absolute drag for them because they are forced to do too much and there will be some who do nothing at all.

I’m not entirely sure what the happy medium is, but I do hope that Milly will have more than two entries by the end of August. At least tonight she will be keen to write about the cleaning effect that M&S organic yogurt has on coins, (which, frighteningly, is on a par with that of cola drinks)!

Not wishing to make anyone jealous here, but I am writing this in 33 degree heat, whilst on holiday. Sadly, I am nowhere more exotic than Germanz (and struggliing with a German kezboard, as zou can see!), and around me there is a slight sense of disappointment after a shameful effort in the Euro cup finals, however I am loving the fact that I can hear my two bigger children speaking ever-improving German with their Omi (grandma) in the other room as I type.

Before we left, I felt guilty putting a holiday form into school. After all, I am a Governor and I know that the local LA has sent out several letters to schools about attendence. Our Head is less willing than ever to authorise holidays and I understand why it is not ideal for children to be out of school - when I was teaching I saw it from a very different perspective. However, now here, my guilt has disappeared completely. So far, the kids have swum in the sort of Lido we just don´t seem to have in the UK, played with cousins they rarely see, fished jelly fish out of the sea (I wasn´t so keen on this activity), eaten food they would normally turn their noses up at and generally enjoyed having their dad about 24/7. On top of that, Milly is keeping a diary about everything we do - at the moment it is taken up mostly with accounts of the number of windmills she has seen, what the windmills do, how big they are and how many she thinks there may be altogether in Germany. Next week, Milly will be going to Kindergarten with her cousin (although they are both six and Milly is in Year 1, her cousin will only be starting school in September) and hopefully picking up even more German. And in between, I suspect I will be Googling ´windmills`so that I can answer some of the questions being thrown at me.

Admittedly, I don´t know what Milly is missing in school this week, but I really do feel that the experiences she has had over the last week will more than make up for anything she may not been learning.

I was horrified to read this weekend that Early Years teachers are being advised to allow boys to play games with toy weapons. Apparently, not doing so leaves boys likely to become uncreative and disconnected with their learning. Whilst I appreciate that children have different learning styles, preferences and needs, I do not think that encouraging them to wield toy weapons is more likely to make them learn.

I understand that the leader of the NUT has voiced his concerns over the idea that boys' learning will be improved by allowing such play, stating that it is really giving in to gender stereotypes.

I am inclined to agree. When we come to that age-old discussion of Nature versus Nurture, I fall on the side of Nurture. I strongly feel that children become the sort of people we expect them to be and tell them they will be.

Take my 3½ year-old son, William, as an example. He has never come across any super hero cartoon character (his television watching is strictly controlled). Nor does he own any axes, guns or swords. I can, hand on heart, say that he hasn't even ever picked up a stick and pretended to shoot with it. But he is still an imaginative boy who tells me all sorts of creative stories and who will sit for hours with his Lego fire station, talking to the firemen and telling them how to put out fires and rescue people. His play is no more loud or aggressive than his older sister's. Of course, they both have their moments when they chase each other around endlessly whilst screaming and shouting, and they adore playing games in which I or their dad throw them about. However, they are both equally content to sit quietly and draw, read or listen to a story.

I really don't feel that William's imaginative, creative or any other development has been hindered by not being allowed to play aggressive games. On the contrary, he seems more confident and ready to learn than his sister was at his age.

My point is that, whilst imaginative play should be respected and encouraged, I do think that allowing aggressive games because "boys will be boys" is simply giving in to outdated stereotypes.